Never Forever

Number.11 Why me?

I instantly flip my board as I jerk back in horror. My head submerges and I come up gasping, grabbing my board and just hang there, not wanting Nick to see me. Tracker laughs at me, making me act on unnatural anger and kick his board from underneath. He flips completely into the water, cutting him off mid laugh. He comes up sputtering and choking beside me. I ignore him and keep my eyes on the standing figure on the beach, who remains for a moment longer before walking away and out of sight towards the parking. I gulp, pulling myself up onto my board with caution. Nick knows I'm here. How? There was no evidence of where I was going in my house. How'd he find out? Goosebumps appeared on my arms. Nick has probably become more powerful since I'd last seen him. Who knows what scientific breakthrough he has uncovered since then. Maybe he has connections all over the world. Maybe that girl was one of them. But how could he get here so fast?! Was I being spied on?

"Is something wrong?" Trackers' voice finds me in my swirling thoughts. I look back at his wet form. He is looking at me with slight curiosity. I suddenly feel bad for kicking him off his board out of pure anger. Anger that had come out of nowhere. He had just been laughing because I probably looked like I had had a clumsy moment. I sigh.

"Maybe it's time to quite." I say, eyeing the beach.

"Good idea." Tracker agreed. "I'm hungry." We turn our boards and paddle to shore. "Do you want to have dinner with me?" He asked when we had landed on the sand. I shook my head.

"No thanks. I-I have things I need to do when I get back." I made excuse, walking towards the sea-doo. I had had more human contact these past few days then I've had in ten years and I wanted to get away from it. Also, if Nick ever finds me-like actually standing in the room finds me, then I don't want Tracker thinking he has to interfere. Yes, there is a little part deep down inside me that cares about Tracker. But then again, it humane to care about a complete stranger. It's in our nature. Maybe not Nick's. But he doesn't count.

"Oh that's too bad." Tracker said sympathetically from beside me. I wasn't sure if he bought my excuse or not. If he didn't, he wasn't showing it. "I really had a good time today." He continued brightly. So did I.

"Yes... it was a good day, wasn't it?" I gave him a smile. His grass green eyes sparkled back at me. I tied the board to the sea-doo and pushed the contraption into the water.

"Will I... see you again?" Tracker said, suddenly hesitant. I sat on the sea-doo and looked over at him. He looked back soberly. I sigh. He looks so innocent.

"I... had no intention of seeing you again..." I say quietly, hoping it didn't come out as rude. He was silent as he stood ankle deep beside the sea-doo, looking down at the water. I sigh again. "I have to go." I reversed the machine, turned, and sped away, leaving Tracker standing there.

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I sat, slumped on the floor, shaking from exhaustion. The hula hoop lay to my right. Nick kneeled down on my left and gathered me tenderly in his arms. I hated him at the moment as my head lay against his broad chest. My feelings for him changed every day. One day I hate him, then I feel pity for him, then I fear him. He makes me laugh, he makes me cringe, he makes me cry, then he makes me love him. I held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he actually loved me and would let me go some day. I soaked up any portion of love he showed to me. Like I was soaking it up now-in his arms. He honestly believed that he was helping me by everything he did to me. From testing out his new experiments on me to locking me in a dark cellar.

He gently stroked my hair as I sat huddled in his lap on the floor. My hatred slowly melted away, replaced by guarded love. I had loved Nick before he went coo coo on me, and a tiny part of me still did. For deep down, I was sure that he was sane. He just needed some help to bring it to the surface.

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My eyes popped open from where I lay in bed. Moonlight filtered in through my satin curtains that framed the floor to ceiling windows. I sat up, flipping my long french braid behind me. It was just a dream. Bringing my knees to my chest, I laid my chin on them, thinking with a frown. Why would Nick still want me? Does he actually love me? In a really psychotic way? Should I just let him come? Confront him? Another thought hit me. Maybe he isn't crazy anymore. Maybe he went to a specialist who helped him. Maybe he wants to be together like normal people. Maybe's. Maybe's. Maybe's. I will never know until I'm actually standing face to face with him. Sighing, I lay back down and stare up at the ceiling. Thoughts of Tracker float into my vision. He doesn't seem nutsy. In fact, I am 89% sure that he isn't. I closed my eyes. But where have I seen him before? I feel like it's important but I just can't grasp it. My mind starts drifting to the journal that Nick supposedly took. Why did he take it? It was just full of drawings of people. My mom, Dad, brother, sister, Nick, a monkey, my best friend Jessica, Hunter. I shot up with a gasp. Hunter! Tracker! They look exactly the same. Hunter was the one who hunted me down whenever I managed to escape a couple times. He was cruel, selfish, and was the man they went to if a woman escaped the Dome. The Dome was the place where captured girls were bought or sold. It consisted of hallways and rooms with one big area in the middle for 'market', along with a dozen stalls for the 'products'. Along with forty other men, Nick and I lived inside it in our own little personal space at the far end of one of the halls.

Hunter was constantly having to track me down. No matter how much I tried, I could never elude him.

I stared at the opposite wall for a long time. Is Tracker related to Hunter? Both names have the same meaning. I shuddered. Hunter had always seemed a little... nicer to me than he was to the other girls he brought in. I began to suspect that he kinda liked me, even though he'd bang any woman who'd let him. I never cared for him though. I rubbed my upper arms as if cold even though I wasn't. The last memory I had had with Hunter haunted me. It wasn't what he had done to me. It was what I had done to him. I slowly slid out from under the covers and padded over to the window to look out. The sky was clear, stars sparkled, and the moon kissed my face with its pale light. The ocean lapped at the sand on the empty beach. I could not see my neighbor for the trees that bordered my little property so I felt secluded. Not a nice feeling when a psycho is after you. I double checked to make sure my window was locked before slipping back to my bed. But I was not tired at all. I was wide awake. I felt under my pillow for the handgun, relaxing when feeling its presence.

A slight creak downstairs made me grab the gun and bring it level with my bedroom door in an instant. Silence. My heart is pounding in my throat, listening. Nothing. The house is still. I breathed deeply, trying to calm down. Maybe it was just a mouse... Or maybe the house is getting old. Houses make noises all the time. I tried shrugging, trying to relax, but it came out as more of a jerk. Oh heck, I'm never going back to sleep until I know what it is! I flung the covers off me and advanced to my closed door. Taking a deep breath, I turn the brass handle and jerk the door open quickly and point the gun down the hall. It was dark. I grabbed a little flashlight from the dresser by the door and shine the light down the hall. No one. I gingerly step out, hoping the floor boards don't creak. Hm, they don't creak. Interesante. I pad down the hall and to the top of the stairs where I stop and listen, turning my flashlight off so whoever it is couldn't see me . A slight movement from beneath me, made me leap down the stairs, gun up and flashlight on yelling;

"Freeze!"

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